I knock it over
by frankenfeels
Summary: all moriarty wants to do is introduce a little anarchy
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: I knock it over

**Author**: porpoise-song

**Character**: Jim Moriarty

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I own _absolutely _nothing.

**Summary**: all moriarty wants to do is introduce a little anarchy (for an _Anonymous _on sherlockbbc_fic)

**Warning**: Nothing explicit or anything. Only one bad word.

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><p>THE FOLLOWING AUDIO EVIDENCE IS UNDER THE OWNERSHIP OF THE LONDON METROPOLITAN POLICE AND IS STRICTLY FOR THEIR LISTENING ONLY. ANY UNAUTHORIZED USE OR COPYING IS SUBJECT TO FINE ANDOR IMPRISONMENT.

TRANSCRIPT 1

Interview participants: Officer Renee Montoya, Officer Harold Beckett, and Metropolitan Police Referral Number Eleven-Twenty-One-Seventy-Six (Known aliases: Jim Holden, Jim Moriarty, and James Scott).

[The sound of a door opening and closing; low murmurs]

Officer Montoya: We should leave, Beckett.

Officer Beckett: Stop tellin' me what to do.

OM: We're not supposed to be in here! We were ordered to stay outside that door and _guard _the prisoner until Detective Inspector Lestrade arrives with some higher-ups and that bloke from the government.

Moriarty: Aw...Sherlock's not coming? I wanted to have another chat with him. Oh! By the way, how _is _his widdiful Johnny boy?

OM: With the way, you left Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson at the pool, I don't think _either _of them will be having another _chat _for a couple days.

M: And what about me? It's not as if I escaped unscathed. I'm _so_ pulveratricious! And this is a Westwood...brand new and tailored _especially _for that occasion.

[Pause]

OM: Okay, Beckett, we should leave now..._right now_...

OB: _You_ can leave, but I'm not until I give this _freak_—a piece of my mind...he killed my partner, y'know.

M: Well, I just happened to get to him first before you _ate _him...big boy.

[Sound of a struggle and some small chuckles]

OM: Don't hurt him Beckett! Don't hurt him or else we'll be in _bigger _trouble.

OB: Yeah...

[Pause]

OB: Wouldn't want him injured for his trial—even though _everyone _knows that he's guilty and goin' to jail.

M: Oh? What are the charges?—Well, some of them, anyway...I know it's a long list and I wouldn't want you to miss your feeding.

OM: Ha, you name it...and it's probably not even _half_ the illegal activities you've actually done. But, rest assure...we're checking into it.

M: I'd like to see you try. I don't like getting my hands dirty.

OB: Oh, yes...we've heard about your goons—your "puppets" and what not.

M: So, I'm a puppet master now? First, I was a freak now I'm a puppet master...make up your damn nihilarian mind.

OM: Then what do _you_ call yourself, Mr. Moriarty?

M: Playing psychiatrist now, aren't we?

[Mutters knowingly]

M: I find cops sexier and easier to manipulate.

OB: I assume, by that, you have some cops on the take.

M: Yay! He finally got one! And you always got to have people on the inside.

OM: For what?

M: Oh, for my little games...and a bit of chaos and panic in the government doesn't hurt, now that I've admitted it.

OM: So, you're an anarchist then?

M: Oh no. Well—yes—I _am_ the only person with any bit of anarchy left, but no—I wouldn't call myself _that_.

[Pause]

M: There's three types of people in this world...the optimistic that sees the glass as half-full, the pessimistic that sees it as half-empty, and the paranoid—and, well, they're just thinking "Who's been drinking out of my glass?"

[Pause]

OM: Hm... Which one are you?

[Pause]

M: I'm the one that knocks the glass over.

[A light clunk is heard and the sound of a liquid spilling onto the floor. Manic, boyish laughter is heard as well]

OB: _Shit._

[Sound of a door opening]

M: Ah...and my ride's here.

[The metal scrapping of the chair being pulled out is heard]

M: So long wallydrags!

[Two muffled shots ring out then there's two loud thuds. A low, cheerful hum is heard echoing down the hall.]

END OF RECORDING

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

TWO POLICE OFFICERS DEAD (RENEE MONTOYA AND HAROLD BECKETT) BY CEREBRAL LACERATION FROM A SINGLE PENETRATING GUNSHOT WOUND TO THE FOREHEAD

METROPOLITAN POLICE REFERRAL NUMBER ELEVEN-TWENTY-ONE-SEVENTY-SIX (KNOWN ALIASES: JIM HOLDEN, JIM MORIARTY, AND JAMES SCOTT) ESCAPED

THE SONG MORIARTY WAS HUMMING IS NOW KNOWN TO BE THE JOKER'S THEME SONG FROM BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Sand Castles

**Author**: porpoise-song

**Character**: Jim Moriarty

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: I own _absolutely _nothing.

****Summary**: all moriarty wants to do is introduce a little anarchy (for an _Anonymous _on sherlockbbc_fic)**

**Warning**: Nothing explicit or anything.

**A/N**: I came up with another one! It can either be a stand alone or the second part to "I knock it over". I don't have _any _idea why I put them together, but, I suppose, since they're both dealing with an anarchist!Moriarty, they'd be _better _together.

This one talks more about anarchist!Moriarty though.

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><p>Sherlock stood across from him—about ten yards away—his long, slightly shaking arms at his sides. Moriarty got the distinct image of the showdown between the sheriff and the villain at the end of westerns. But, they weren't two rugged cowboys in Stetsons and cowboy boots. They were two clever Europeans in expensive clothes.<p>

"I never thought it would end like this", Moriarty said coolly, his hands shoved in pants pockets. "Well—I did once, but the venue was different. It was a beach...not the Reichenbach Falls", Moriarty motioned to the roaring waterfalls with his hands. "I like the beach...do you, Sherlock?" he asked him casually. He continued with the same tone when Sherlock didn't reply, "I was the kid who kicked the sand castles down. People thought that I kicked them down because I hated them, but, actually it's quite the opposite...I had fun kicking down someone's work and toil. And I had fun knowing that it was wrong and not having an ounce of concern about it. I'm still like that...it's just on a larger scale."

"Well, Moriarty, I think you've had _enough _fun to last a hundred lifetimes. It ends now", Sherlock vociferated at him in a corybantic matter.

"Oh? So, you want to skip all the balderdash and get right to our roll in the hay?" Moriarty asked him, cheerfully.

Sherlock didn't respond. Just narrowed his icy, but burning eyes at him.

Moriarty heaved a disappointed sigh, turned, and started walking around Sherlock, "We could have been _so _good together. I know we could." He stopped and gazed at Sherlock, "We could have told each other lies...wicked lies." He flashed to Sherlock a mischievous smirk, "Like how I'm an anarchist,—I'm not, by the way. But, I like people _thinking _that I am. What's fun about chaos and panic if there's no order or boundaries to break?"

"Yes", Sherlock lightly and lazily said, turning his stare to the ground, "I think this is _enough _glossolalia for you."

Moriarty gave Sherlock a girn and drew in a breath.


End file.
